


Quietly, We Float

by INerdMuch



Category: IDW, MTMTE - Fandom, Transformers
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so busy, Kidnapping, Psychology, Stockholm, can I get uhhhhhhhhhhh, doing it for you, precious bby, self indulgent fic, smh, there's no smut, they all like him, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INerdMuch/pseuds/INerdMuch
Summary: They kidnapped Rung, for reasons unknown. They plucked him from the Lost Light. They swept him away.With no reason behind their actions, Rung is stuck wondering why he was the one they took. They don't want money or energon.Maybe they just want... company?





	1. Ah Yes, Who Doesn't Love A Kidnapping?

**Author's Note:**

> 'There is no sweeter innocence,  
> Then our gentle sins,'
> 
> \- Hozier, Take Me To Church

  
The alarms blared, flashing red in the otherwise blackness of the Lost Light. Mechs ran amok, and someone screamed. Faintly glowing energon splattered the wall, illuminating a chorus of demons.

Or, at least, their distant cousins.

Tarn hummed, wiping his servos of the pink liquid calmly. A frenzy seized the crowd, swallowing any of those who could not run. The DJD did not seem to be set on genocide, however, despite their previous inclinations. They merely stepped into a long hallway and strolled down it.

They sauntered toward an office, ignoring the locks that clicked as they approached. Helex ripped away the door, and bowed mockingly, staring at Tarn.

"After you, My Good Sir," he said, straightening his back. Tarn nodded graciously, though it may have not been a facade. Stepping into the mainly dark room, the leader made a thoughtful sound, peering through the gloom toward a display case.

Filled to the brim with model ships, the owner clearly held them in higher esteem. Mounted and polished, they'd been painted with precision and built meticulously. Well, if the maker loved them so, he would definitely appear if he just-

Before he could smash the glass to tear one apart, a little orange and white mech pushed forward from beneath his desk, begging him not to touch them. Grinning at his prize, Tarn swept him under an arm.

The DJD reentered their ship, now with an extra member. Kaon bound his wrist and ankles, before tying a gag around his helm. The mech said nothing, but whimpered as he was dragged into a room by a vicious looking turbo-fox.

The door slammed, and only the light from his optics lit the room.

~~~

"All tied up, Cap'n," Kaon half-sang, jumping into a spare seat and kicking his pedes onto a console. Helex grumbled quietly, but made no move to tell him off. "He's kind of cute, in a nerdy, Autoboty, weird way. What did ya think of him, Vos?"

Vos did not reply. This was probably because the bot was plotting a jump to the next galaxy, but it may have been that he did not care.

Kaon snorted, and turned his eyeless face back to Tarn. The leader grumbled his approval, and bent down to give Pet a pat.

"Are we going to rough him up a bit?" Tesarus asked eagerly, standing up. Excited, he began to bounce a tiny bit. Tarn gave him a look, and the mech sat down, disappointed.

"I'll be speaking with him for a bit. Do continue," he murmured. The distance to the cell seemed to be slightly longer, but that may have been his imagination. Swiping a card, the door slid open smoothly.

~~~

Rung had long managed to undo his gag. He hadn't done much but climb onto the berth provided and curl up tightly, shivering in the coolness.

When the door opened, he sat up swiftly, wincing when he bumped his helm on the wall. Rung scrambled back as Tarn ducked through the doorway, making a distressed whine, before banging heavily on the floor.

With a laugh, Tarn reached down and hooked a digit under the cuffs on his wrists. Lifting the autobot from the floor, he put him onto the bed again.

"Are you terrified, little one?" Purred Tarn, enjoying the fear. Rung nodded, the voice already wrapped around his spark. "Why did you run out? Why sacrifice yourself to save those pathetic toys?"

"They... are the ships that, that I've been on," Rung managed to gasp. "I collect them. Good distraction for some p-patients."

"Ah, yes. You are a psychologist, right? I have heard of Rungian Therapy." Tarn slung the tiny mech over a shoulder, and left the room.

Carrying him down the hallway, the decepticon walked into the control room, humming an old song contentedly. He dropped Rung on his aft in the centre of the room, and the autobot squeaked. How _cute_.

Vos let loose a string of words in Primal Venacular, none of which were savoury enough for anyone's audials.

"He's asking if you wish to refuel," lied Kaon, leering at the orange mech.

"Ah, I'm perfectly fine, thank, thank you," Rung stuttered, trying to back into a corner. Pet advanced, sniffing at him interestedly, and Rung sat stock still. "Will he e-eat me?"

"No," sighed Kaon. "I've told him not to, at least."

"That's very reassuring," Rung commented, keeping his voice level as the creature sniffed at him. Deciding he was not food, Pet settled for sitting down beside him and panting loudly. Tentatively, Rubg stroked his plating. After not getting his hand chewed up, he petted Pet calmly.

The DJD went about their business, mostly ignoring him. Watching them closely, Rung delved into full on psychoanalysis mode. If only he had his notepad, then he could properly record-

Oh, hello.

His mind supplied him with exactly what Helex's behaviours gave away. Grinning, the mech filed it away for later, pleased with himself. His little smile caught Vos' attention, and the bot leaned toward him, threatening and huge. Rung's cheer vanished, and he shuffled ever closer to Pet.

Pet seemed to like him, at least.

~~~

It was only when soft music began to drift from Tarn that the autobot moved from his position next to Pet. Lifting his helm, the mech chased the memory of the song through his mind fleetingly, pinning it down. It had been one of his favourites, a few million years ago.

"Isn't that the Third Choir of Iacon?" He whispered, voice barely hearable. "Their best selling song, 'If Primus Was A Mech Like Me'?"

Tarn looked up, surprised. Not many people still knew of this song. He nodded slowly, turning the volume down slightly.

"I was at the first live performance of it," Rung shrugged. He bent his helm again, letting Pet shift over his legs to snort and snuffle contentedly.

Tarn gaped, completely lost for words. This tiny mech had seen the first performance? He seemed so young, so... weak.

"You'd have to be, like, at least five million years old," Kaon said offhandedly. He didn't enjoy the music himself, but he knew it well enough. Helex grunted an agreement.

"I'm, seven million, years old," Rung said, hastily tacking on- "but I could be only six!"

"How do you forget your own age?" Asked Kaon. Rung thought. He didn't speak for a long time. Eventually, he shrugged, not entirely certain. " _Weird_. Bet you don't even know your serial number!"

"One hundred million, third model, no discernible alt mode, the Useless one," recited the orange mech robotically. His voice held no emotion, and he optics stared straight ahead.

"What."

"One hundred milli-"

"What Helex meant was; how do you remember all of that, but not your birthday?" Questioned Kaon, swivelling in his chair to stare at Rung. He was gobsmacked, at the sheer blankness on the little bot's face.

"When the council badgers you, what can you expect," Rung said. "I don't have an alt mode, nor a specific 'use'."

"Decepticons never cared for that stuff anyway," said Tesarus slowly. Rung smiled tightly, and retreated into his shell. Silence was best where psychotic evil vigilantes were concerned.


	2. The Sweet Sensation Of Doing Ones Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rung is established as the physiatrist, and Kaon experiences Therapy the RUNG way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here y'all go. This was made for you, with love.

The ship continued to hurtle through the cosmos, skimming a solar system. Rung found himself staring out of the window, holding back tears. What was he going to do?

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have though that he was on an ordinary ship. The crew bickered and chattered easily, discussing everything from rations to favourite colours. Rung focused on the personal things about them, remaining unmoving under the dim and purple lighting.

The DJD began to sit down in apparently designated seats, and the mech paused his mind. A familiar noise reached his audials, and Rung was flung to the back wall as the ship hyper jumped through time-space. He slammed to the floor, helm first, and groaned.

"Probably should have tied him down," commented Kaon, trying not to laugh. Rung, however, simply rolled over and jumped up, disgruntled. He had no dents, surprisingly, and didn't seem to be injured at all. He didn't even glare at them, meekly sitting down.

"Not a complaint," commented Tarn quietly, filing the fact away for later. Was the mech scared? Or did he truly not feel bothered by the lack of respect? A Decepticon would never stand for this treatment.

Certainly, the little Autobot was an intriguing mech. They'd kidnapped him, mostly on the basis that he was a phycologist. Yet, the small mech hadn't complained once, talking only when spoken to, responding calmly as possible. No wait, he was speaking now!

"What are you going to do?" Of course. The DJD weren't known for kidnapping, only for killing. They would have to inform him of his job eventually. Might as well do it now.

"We're sick of each other's problems, and we wanted a psychological genius," Tesarus spilled, almost excitedly. Tarn didn't slap his mask, but how he wished he could.

Rung contemplated this for a few moments. He made as if to ask another question, but shut his intake anyway. Instead, he crossed his legs, letting Pet sit on them and grumble. He scratched the turbo-fox's audials, and the beast rumbled deep in his chest.

Silence reigned for a while, the crew comfortable and Rung forcing himself to relax. Carefully, the orange and white mech pulled out a small music device from his subspace, and industrial sized headphones. He'd carried them for a long time, finding them useful when it came to calming... raucous... patients.

Slowly, as to not alarm the DJD, Rung slipped them around his helm, and hit the play button. Soft music floated out, and he slumped slightly. Pet nudged at his servo, and he resumed his ministrations against the metal.

With a slight smirk, Tarn turned to gaze at him, nudging Helex and Vos roughly. They each alerted Kaon and Tesarus respectively, and the crew stared at the autobot.

Rung had fallen into a doze, bent over Pet. It was unusual. Most mechs tended to stay vigilant around the team, especially if Pet was nearby. Something about the slavering jaws tended to be off-putting. His antenna flicked as Pet shifted to leave, and Rung fell forward slightly.

As he jerked awake, the DJD turned around quickly. If he knew they stared at him whilst he recharged, they'd lose whatever trust they had.

Which wasn't any, to be honest. The sentiment was still there, though.

Rung stretched, joints creaking slightly as he popped his back. He pushed his glasses up his nose, though they hadn’t fallen at any point. Fiddling with his digits, the psychiatrist found himself, indubitably, bored.

So far, he’d been kidnapped, but it wasn’t like any kidnapping he’d experienced. No torture, no ransoms, no threatening... if anything, he’d been treated like he wasn’t there. He sorely wanted to ask questions, but ultimately decided against it. However, before he could blink, he was hauled to his pedes by Tarn.

“Come, little bot,” he said, voice low and rough. It sent heavy tremors through his spark, rattling his frame. Fear clutched at him, and he reminded himself that Tarn would talk him to death, literally. A few words, and he would be on the floor, grey and very much not sparked.

Swallowing, Rung scrambled after the tank former, the consequences of not pounding his processor like wild beasts. Tarn led him to a heavy duty door, and typed in a code. It opened, not to a torture chamber as he expected, but an office.

It had a desk, a swivel chair, a chaise lounge, a large cupboard and shelves over the back wall. All in all, a very nice place. The walls could do with a touch up, and it was exceedingly empty, but there was no energon on the walls. Tarn pushed him inside, and Rung stumbled. Standing inside, he noticed how large everything was. Other than that, it seemed like a perfectly average-

"Psychiatrist Office. Used to be used for timeout for Pet, but you need a quiet place to work. We are, after all, psychopaths and sadists with deep rooted issues," commented Tarn smoothly, watching Rung's reactions carefully.

"It's wonderful, thank you," he murmured, gazing into each corner. Tarn nodded, stepped out and slammed the door shut. Rung jumped, and found himself alone and awaiting his first patient.

~~~

Kaon burst in as Rung finished compiling a data pad on Vos. He'd found stacks of them in the cupboard, along with styluses and a few stories. Romance was heavily implied in at least 90% of them.

"Take a seat," Rumg said coolly, gesturing to the chaise. Kaon sat down slowly, feeling his way over. Deliberately staring at Rung, he was surprised when the mech made no sound of discomfort. "So, why are you talking to me. Give me a brief overview."

"Well, generally, I need someone to offload my problems to," chirped Kaon, swinging his pedes gently. Rung made a note in his datapad.

"Well, that is well enough. For this first session, I hhink it best that we begin lightly. Have you heard of Rungian Re-Experience Therapy?" Continued the autobot gently, peering through his glasses. Kaon nodded slowly. He'd heard of it, most had, but what it actually entailed on the other hand - he had no clue.

"It is when we basically find your happy place. The memory in which you feel calmest and happiest, and feel safe in." Rung said, gesturing for Kaon to lie down. "Get comfortable. We have to delve into your memories to find the best one."

The Decepticon lay back, and closed his eyes. He began to recount some of his further memories, and delved deep into his processor.

~~~

Some time later, Kaon emerged from the office, looking tired but content. Suspicious, Tesarus asked him exactly what had happened in there, and the smaller mech had just smiled.

"We should probably feed him soon, actually," commented Helex, in his calm manner. Tarn nodded. They had drawn straws to see who would have to go first, and it seemed they would have to again.

Vos made a grumble as he drew the short straw, and gathered himself. Delicately holding two cubes of energon, he knocked on the door.

When Rung called for him to enter, he nodded approvingly. Nice to know that the mech had manners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, yada yada, I have anxiety please fulfill my dreams I really need validation man


	3. They are Murderous, I don't understand your surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this is late. All I can say. But it's 1069 words, so there's that. I'll update soon.

"I don't understand Primal Vernacular, I am afraid," Rug stated, holding up a dry wipe board. "So I figured you could draw what you see. They don't have to be elaborate or anything-"

Vos snatched the board and pen, cradling them with interest. Rung made no move to shout or get angry at his abrasive attitude, and sat back, pleased. The giant mech sat down, and began to sketch out a person. Then, he drew out a few stars and music notes. The drawing mech had a huge smile, stretching comically over the face.

"Why did you draw this? Does it make you feel anything?" Asked Rung, jotting down notes. Vos swiped the board clean, and scratched out a cybertronian glyph. One of the few he knew.

"'Free'. I see. Now I want you to take hold of that thought and feeling, and sink into it. Immerse yourself," Rung instructed, the seeker slowly lying down. A rumble flew from his chassis, and Vos fell back, into his mindmind. “Tell me what you feel.”

~~~

Rung gently sipped at his energon, daintily placing it on his desk. Vos was coming to from his experience. He looked far calmer, and grumbled out some Primal Vernacular. Whilst the words were lost, the meaning wasn't. Rung smiled, and patted the huge servo.

"You come to me whenever something's troubling you. Okay?" Vos nodded, and left the office. As his heavy steps faded away, Rung took off his glasses and rubbed his optics. Oh Primus, would he always feel this terrified as each member came for their appointments?

He did not have time to find out. A heavy crash alerted him of something going down outside his office, and he sprang up. Pulling the huge door open an inch, he flinched as Kaon was pushed against it roughly.

"Tell me what he did with you!" Roared Tesarus, baring his dentae and growling. Kaon spat a wad of pink energon at him, and it landed with stunning accuracy for a blind mech.

"It's my business!" Shrieked Kaon, wriggling and biting. Tesarus roared again, wordless and frustrated.

Before anyone could blink, he grabbed onto Kaon's tesla coils and squeezed, crumpling the metal easily. It drew a gurgled scream from the communications officer, and Rung felt it time to intervene.

"Tesarus. Stop it," he said matter-of-factly, hands on his hips. Usually he'd say a trigger word, but he hadn't spent time with the absolutely massive mech. Tesarus growled, and sent a hideous glare his way. Instead of backing down, Rung stood still.

Kaon was let down roughly, and the sadistic mech scampered away, bemoaning the loss of his precious coils. Rung made as if to go after him, but Tesarus slammed a servo beside him.

"What," he whispered threateningly, "happened in his session? Why did he look like that after leaving you?"

"Patient confidentiality is vital in my line of work," Rung proposed meekly, suddenly aware of how easy it would be to die right then. Tesarus raised his servo, and Rung flinched away.

Instead of being struck, however, he was merely pushed roughly back into his office. Tesarus sat heavily on the chaise, helm low as he glared around the room. Rung settled nervously in his chair, after pulling down the datapad he’d created for the mech. Tesarus bared his dentae half heartedly.

“We weren’t supposed to fight in front of you,” He started begrudgingly. “Tarn said we had to appear civilised. I’d like to know why, considering you’re never leaving.”

Rung swallowed at that. Of course.

“I see. Do you think this has pressured you?” He said in a controlled tone. A laugh ripped from Tesarus, and for a moment it was like he was with Swerve.

“Ya think?” The sarcastic tone topped it all off, and familiarity bathed Rung for a moment, before reality doused him in coldness. Tesarus leaned back, uncharacteristically relaxed. “We’re fighting mechs. It’s what we do. And though Tarn says that we don’t have any obligation to Functionist ideals, I’d say I was built for it.”

Rung jotted it down.

“Say, little mech, what is your function? You’re a physiatrist, obviously, but you don’t seem to have an alternative mode. What did you say you transformed into?”

Ah yes, the question he was dreading. He’d expected it from Tarn, what with the mech’s obsession with transformation.

"As I have previously stated, I do not have a definitive alt. mode. I have not changed from my original function, so I have no clue-"

a servo slammed into the lounge with a clang, and Tesarus hissed in anger. He stood, looming like a mountain, a heady glare in his optics.

Rung felt very afraid.

Instead of murdering him right there and then, the heavy hitter stomped from the room, hideously enraged. A rattling sigh flew from the small mech, and he sunk to the floor as his pedes trembled.

If the actual bots wouldn't kill him, the stress of near death experiences would. Gulping, the glasses-wearing mech crawled under his desk, jumping each time he heard a slam, not knowing if it was the irate Decepticon or just another noise from the ship.

~~~

Tarn shifted in his chair comfortably, gazing at the darkness of Space. Stars showed off their pageantry, and a smallish planet rotated gently. All in all, the scene was peaceful, and with the soft music he was emitting, it was very refined.

He was jarred from his delusions of grandeur by a large mech slamming the door open and yelling. Tesarus said no words, but gave a long and frustrated yell.

It was clear that he was conveying his disapproval at something, though it was hard to tell what exactly.

"That little autobot deserves to be beaten to scrap, oh if I get my servos on him-"

Well, that was no surprise. Tarn elegantly respired, and prepared himself for a duel over the tiny mech.

"We are not killing him," he murmured, frowning at his claws. A speck of grit was trapped just under his joint. He'd need some help getting it out.

Tesarus merely growled, and went on the prowl to find something to alleviate his murderous intentions.

Tarn settled back down, and an ugly disappointment siphoned through his spark. Such a pity they couldn't keep up pretences of civilisation for one day.

Didn't he have an appointment soon?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very tired.


	4. Indeed, What A Tired Mech Does Wish For Is Usually Found In Recharge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had to redo my English lab, revise maths, science and music. I apologise for my lateness but by god, please forgive me.

He had nowhere to recharge.

The benign thought wandered through his processor, though Rung did not endeavour to chase it. The prospect was worrying, but the chaise would probably suffice. He'd offlined in worse places, after all.

His processor screamed for a recharge to last forever. He wanted to cry he was that tired, but that would attract attention from one of the murderous mechs outside.

So instead of fussing, Rung traced the stars through the wide window next to him.

He had created four constellations when his door slid open. He didn't turn, engrossed in the colour of the nebulae outside. A cough interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced over his shoulder.

Tarn was standing in the doorway, lavishly polished and pompous. Rung could smell the pure aristocracy rolling off of him in waves, but didn't comment. Tarn was unpredictable, huge, and most importantly, a patient. Instead he scuttled to his chair.

The tankformer, however, did not sit. He instead skulked over to Rung, shoulders hunched to make himself seem far bigger. He plucked him up, and made as if to sling him over his shoulder, before reconsidering. He placed the tiny one on the floor, and gestured for him to follow. Rung did so, despite his apprehensive thoughts.

~~~

“... and therefore, the Decepticon cause is the most noble cause in the galaxy, which is why you should be a part of it,” Tarn half sang, sending calming tremors through Rung’s spark. They had been sitting in the brig for nearly two hours now.

At first, it had been strange to be put in the captain's chair, but as Tarn lectured him on the greatness of Lord Megatron and the purity of the cause, Rung had slowly relaxed. No harm was being done to him, and all he had to do was listen to the honeyed voice weaving tales. He could recharge right there, if he didn't force his optics open.

Tarn stopped abruptly. Helex had wandered in, evidently searching for something. The hulking mech froze in the stare he was receiving from his leader. Gingerly, he swiped a datapad and exited. The spell over Rung was broken, and the phycologist sat up from where he'd melted into the chair.

Sensing that his speeches would be useless, Tarn sighed and pushed Rung to the floor roughly. The autobot yelped as he clanged onto the smooth metal.

He pressed his cheek to the cool tiles, unwilling to get up. His CPU was yelling at him for recharge, and he was happy to oblige. His last full recharge cycle had been nearly four days ago.

Though he did not expect him to, Tarn leaned toward him and tilted his helm with a digit. Tutting, the sociopathic Decepticon gently scooped him up, and set him on shaky pedes. Rung straightened, and bit back a groan. He felt very dizzy, and the floor was a moving wave.

"How are you alive?" Asked Tarn. The autobot thought for a few moments. How was he alive?

"By the power of Primus, and someone who wants me to suffer," he muttered dryly. A chuckle emanated from Tarn, who gestured for Rung to follow.

The halls were quiet. That was the first thing that hit the autobot. From the moment he'd been brought aboard the ship, there'd been some humming of engines, or the incessant scritch-scratch of claws being sharpened. So the near silent hall was eerie.

Oh wait, his audio receptors had cut out for a second. He breathed out in relief, and trotted gaily behind Tarn. The Decepticon opened a small door, and waved him inside.

The room was barely bigger than a storage cupboard, but it somehow had a rather large berth. At the sight of it, Rung felt his pedes tremble in relief. A narrow shelf ran along the side of the room, balanced at the perfect height to bump into. He couldn't bring himself to care, however.

Crawling pathetically onto the berth, Rung didn't bother to put his glasses to the side. The sweet sensation of rest washed over him, and he didn't notice Tarn leave quietly and shut the door.

All he saw were thousands of dreams.

~~~

To say that Rung enjoyed his recharge was to say that water was made of one oxygen and two hydrogens. The berth below him was too big for him, but that meant he could stretch out. He bumped against the wall with his pede due to the placement of it, but did you see him complaining? The answer is no.

So as Rung luxuriously recharged, limbs akimbo, Pet simply sat and watched. Why should he wake the small mech? He gave the best scratches, better than even Kaon's. Speaking of Kaon, where was the blind mech anyway-?

A crash from outside the door gave it away. The blind mech staggered in, groping the walls and air. Pet snuffled, and a grin spread over his face.

"Hey Rung! Time to WAKE THE FRAG UP!" He all but screeched, and the physiatrist groaned lightly. Sitting up, Rung blinked blearily.

"Kaon, what time is it?" He asked meekly, bright opticked but very much not fully functional. Kaon snorted, an impressive noise that reverberated slightly.

"You have been in recharge for a record breaking..." he paused to check his chronometer. "Two orns and a half. And we thought Helex was a heavy sleeper."

Rung groaned, but didn't say much. He was still figuring out where his place was on the ship's hierarchy. He reckoned he was around Kaon in levels of respect, mostly. Maybe slightly less, due to his autobot status.

He followed the mech, noting at last that his tesla could were shiny and fixed.in fact, they had such a sheen that he really wanted to touch them. Thinking to the tales from the Lost Light, however, he decided against it.

He was lead to his office again, and he noted an energon cube placed on his desk. With a grateful sigh, he downed it in one. Who did he have to see today, anyway?

A lumbering frame squeezed through the door and sat heavily on the chaise, which screeched in protest. Red optics glared, but his servos lay folded in his lap.

"Helex, how wonderful to properly meet you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy frock what is a sleep I identify with Rung Lmao kill me


	5. Beauty Is Often First Disguised As Something Plain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To apologise, two chapters in one day.

So far, Helex had shifted uncomfortably twice, and remained silent as a stone. Whilst it may have made some mechs feel awkward and slightly scared, Rung merely busied himself with filing away observations he'd made previously.

"I suppose you know that you have severe problems with anxiety around those you don't know, and are not allowed to kill," said Rung calmly, carefully watching for reactions. Other than tensing, there were none. He wrote it down anyway, in glyphs so badly scrawled only he could read them.

Helex grunted, and slid back in the chair. With a sigh, he uncrossed his servos and placed them on his lap. Rung was ready to wait until the bigger mech spoke, however long it took.

"I was unaware that it had a name," grumbled the behemoth. "I thought it was just cause I wasn't supposed to kill 'em, and that made me twitchy."

"There's a name for everything under the sun," replied the autobot quietly, smiling. Surprised, Helex relaxed slightly. "And if there isn't, we make one up and present it to the universe."

"Are you allowed to do that?" Mused Helex. His optics glinted, and he brought out a rock from his subspace. "If so, this rock is now a _Glantio_."

Rung chuckled, pleased with this development.

"If you want it to be," he replied cheerily. "Gl _a_ nt _io_. Has a certain charm to it."

They began to chat smoothly, and Rung continued to note things of interest. If they kept this up, he might be able to help Helex to interact with people more often, especially when they stopped over in a trade centre- oh. He was a prisoner, he would never be allowed to leave the ship. He kept forgetting his place in all of this. The fact grounded him, and brought him to the conversation at hand.

"-nd then Tarn had to fetch a ladder because he was not going to let his team stray from the floor. It didn't help, because Kaon was still screaming and clutching onto the organic thing," Helex babbled, playing with his rock- sorry, Glantio.

He wasn't a usual patient. Rungian therapy wasn't going to work with him. Helex was the mech for getting comforted by stupid stories and quiet companionship.

"So what happened?" Rung questioned. Helex made as if to reply, but hesitated. He looked nervously to the door, and coughed lightly.

"Next time, Autobot," he said, suddenly far more formal. Rung nodded approvingly, and filed the sudden shift in attitude for later. Had someone walked by whilst they'd been in session?

The mech got up and walked to the door, and didn't look back. Rung watched him leave, silent and unbudging. He needed to know the end, slag it! Sighing, he rested his helm against the warm desk below his elbows, and breathed softly.

.  
~~~

Had the day before been so long? With a bored groan, Rung lazily slung an arm over his chair and kicked from the desk to the wall and back again. Grabbing the edge, he spun himself listlessly. The movement amused him.

Getting faster and faster, a giggle bubbled from his tanks, and the orange and white mech sped up further. He was going far too fast. He only heard the squeak of the chair and the rush of the wind, and saw the colours of the room blur and melt.

The colours had blurred and melted due to his glasses flying off, and he yelped as he too fell to the floor.

With a pained groan, Rung pushed himself up, and blinked. The absolute fuzziness of everything was offputting, to say in the least, especially as he'd been seeing perfectly moments before. Crawling on his knees, he groped over the floor to find them.

Before he could, however, the door slid open. The DJD could barely believe their optics, and in Kaon's case, radar,

Looking up from the floor, Rung's optics widened in surprise, showing off cobalt in its truest state, and were exotically tilted. His back was arched inwards, and his audial was canted to the back. His face was pleasantly confused, and he tilted his helm and squinted.

"Tarn? Is that you?" He asked, unsure. The colours matched up, but there were others in there, reds and silvers and a slash of maroon. Tarn coughed, and the psychiatrist scrambled to his pedes. Swaying slightly, he bent his knees inwards and leaned in the table.

"Those were _glasses_?" Whispered Tesarus, trying to compute. Vos rumbled out a reply, and puffed out his chest slightly. It went unnoticed by the helpless mech in front of them.

"Sorry to ask, but could you help me find them? I really can't tell who's here, I'm afraid," Rung continued, blinking rapidly. Spotting the frames face down on the floor several meters from the mech they belonged to, the DJD scrabbled to get them. Tarn got there first, and offered them glamorously to Rung.

After they had been situated firmly on his nasal ridge, Rung cycled his optics and glanced at them all, acknowledging that they were all there. Then he was bowled over by an excited Pet, and covered in turbofox slobber.

"Oh my Primus, that's _disgusting_ ," cried Kaon, wrenching the beast away from the tiny autobot. "Bad Pet! We do not _slobber_ on other mechs unless we're _killing_ them!"

Scrambling to his pedes, Rung wiped at the slobber smears on his glasses. Frowning in distaste, he removed then again to wipe them with some material from his subspace.

Kaon praised Pet silently, and slipped him an energon treat. The beast accepted it gladly, and sat down to gnaw at it contentedly. Rung still dripped with drool, and looked utterly unamused by the situation.

"I don't suppose I could use your washracks?" He asked dryly, and Tarn snapped from his stupor. He'd looked into the siren's eyes again!

"Yes, of course. Do follow," he managed, and swept from the room grandly. Rung hurried after him, practically running to keep up with his strides.

The room went silent without them, and the remaining five mechs glanced at each other. Then Tesarus burst out frustratedly;

"He's hot! This isn't fair, frag it!" Kaon moaned in agreement. "He was just a psychologist slash psychiatrist, not a playbot extraordinaire!"

"My radar's reclassified him," Kaon interjected. "He was just 'ally', but now he's 'possible _courtier_ '." A round of amens sounded, and Vos gave a heavy rumble in his chassis.

"Isn't he alone with Tarn, in the washracks?" Asked Helex suddenly. The quartet slowly looked at each other as realisation washed over them all. Tesarus just gaped as Vos nodded fervently.

They stampeded in the direction the other two had disappeared, only to find Tarb casually strolling toward them. Immediately, they bombarded him with questions, and quite a few were accusatory of exceedingly dirty things.

He held up a servo, and they snapped their intakes shut. He gazed over them, and glanced behind him. Satisfied, he corralled them into the brig.

"I've left him to wash up, and no, we did not interface in there. I was gone for a minute. Most importantly, we're definitely all courting him."

A round of confused faces gazed into Tarn's optics, and the mech sighed heavily, until Kaon snapped his fingers.

"Until he chooses one of us!" He said, and the group nodded. It was intelligent; no one would feel cheated, and Rung would bond and they'd have him on board indefinitely!

"He might choose more than one of us," Helex piped up from the back. "We don't know what attracts him."

More considerate mutters. Multi partner bonds weren't unheard of, pit, they were downright common! Tarn nodded, pleased with this plan. He drew himself to his full height, and spoke in his most impressive voice.

"We shall begin courting him tomorrow. Don't come in too strong, he will notice! Be subtle, even if you usually aren't . That is aimed at you, Tesarus, and you, Kaon."

As the two spluttered, plans were made to court the new interest of their lives. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and validate the author! 
> 
> Send me stuff at my shitty tumblr: Possesssedbycarl


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys guys guys you’ll never guess what
> 
> I wrote two chapters in one day enjoy

Rung scraped at his armour. The gross slobber Pet has so _lovingly_ bestowed upon him was awfully hard to wash off, having the consistency of a really, really aged cube of energon. Aged for so long, it had become sticky and half solid. Oh Primus; it was in his servo wiring. Oh no, that felt disgusting, and he cringed as he picked out the biggest lump.

Flexing his wrists, Rung exited the wash racks, cleaner and a lot more happy with life. A decent recharge, and good energon as well? Was he on a vacation trip, or a Decepticon hostage? He couldn’t care less. He wasn’t even being tortured or abused!

Just then, Helex rushes down the corridor, whilst Kaon chased him. The smaller mech was in his alt. mode, wheeling past speedily as an electric chair on treads. Upon closer inspection, he was chanting something.

“Death is my only joy! Death is my only joy! Death is my-“ of course. Definitely a Decepticon hostage. Flattening himself against the wall, Rung closed his eyes as Helex clumped heavily past, followed by a trundling Kaon. The shouts slowly receded, and the autobot made his way to the office, and sat shakily in his chair.

On his desk was a package. He warily glanced around the room, before poking at it. I’d didn’t explode, so Rung carefully opened it. Inside, a tiny box sat, made of some organic material that he sincerely hoped hadn’t been alive recently. Carefully opening that, he blinked slowly.

A delicate chain sat on metal mesh, connected to a loop of finely wrought silver. The other end of the chain was tied in a loose knot. Drawing it out of the container, Rung gasped lightly as he recognised it.

A collar. With a leash.

Was this to assert dominance over him? We’re the Decepticon Justice Devision really that crass? He doubted that Tesarus would know about the collar. Or Helex. Vos was a candidate and suspect, along with Tarn and Kaon. Carefully, he stowed the extravagant piece in a drawer on the side of the desk. He locked it tightly, and subspaced the key. Out of sight, out of mind indeed.

Folding his servos, the psychological genius sat in silence. He looked outside the window, and gasped in awe.

They were approaching a massive planet, hammered from old ships and newer slabs of metal, connected by rickety gangways and shaky stabilisers. Advertisements glowed and flashed, blinding even from their distance. He hadn’t noticed that he’d smushed his face against the glass, until his glasses clinked uncomfortably against his nasal ridge.

Stepping back, the Autobot mentally mapped out their root. If they had been there... and they went there... then that meant that this planet was Armada. He was in ‘Con territory, the very heart of it, and he was going to die.

Instead of panicking and trying to run away (not that he’d get far in SPACE), Rung took three calming breaths and lay on the chaise. Holding his servos to his sides, the physiatrist gazed at the ceiling and began to slowly dissociate himself with reality. He fell back into his mind.

~~~

_Sweet light poured over his faceplates as Rung lounged under a crystalline tree in the Iacon crystal gardens. He’d finished reading, and his glasses sat beside him. Though his optics were closed, he could see that he had no responsibility or cares. A sparkling gurgled a few metres away, and he didn’t bother to look._

_A mech settled next to him, and gently took his servos. That was new for his fantasies - they usually just let him be in some garden or library, relaxing and warm. Another presence settled behind him, another two at his other side. A heavy weight settled over his legs, and he opened his optics._

_He could always see crystal clear in his mind, but it took him a moment to stop staring at the multicoloured spires of the crystal, and the sweet blueness of the sky. The trickle of a fountain broke through his audio receptors, and he lazily turned his helm to gaze at the heavy thing on his legs._

_Pet turned to look at him calmly, tail wagging lethargically. The turbo-fox placed his paws on his tanks heavily, and grunted in a pleased fashion. Glancing to his left, Tarn lazed close by, but not very. Behind him had to be Vos, if the soft song of old was anything to go by. His right held the view of Helex. It seemed Tesarus was by the fountain, gently trailing his digits in the liquid at the basin. But then, where was Kaon?_

_Oh._

_Kaon was situated just behind Tarn, cozying up to a rather large crystal. Kano seemed to be happy, so that’s all that mattered. It was quiet, calm and warm. Just what he liked._

_But he’d never had any other bots._

~~~

“Rung?” Asked Tarn, peering over the smallish mech in confusion. Onlining his optics, the autobot stared at him unseeingly, before slowly sitting up. How long had it been since he’d let himself just slip away? It had to have been at least a decade or four.

“Stay behind me, and in front of Kaon. We need to restock our ship,” Tesarus muttered, hefting the autobot to his feet. Rung nodded complacently, and jumped as each mech in the room began to leave, with great speed. He practically had to jog to keep up.

As they reached the hatch, Rung began to lag behind. He sped up, and skidded to a stop. The door was opening far too slowly for him to be comfortable. Neon lights illuminated the metal planet before him, bathing him in luminescent blues, greens and reds.

Whilst the DJD causally stepped off, power radiating from their fields as they stalked predatorily forward, Rung scuttled beside them, ducking away from curious optics. The Decepticon mechs in the group sauntered, but the Autobot trembled with each pede he placed ahead of the other.

A rather hideous seeker leered at him as they passed, and laughed. “Whatcha got there, Tarn? A playbot? How unlike you. Say, you interested in loaning him to m-“

Without looking, Vos fired a handgun at the mech, who fell to the floor dead. His carcass hit the floor with a clang, and Rung jumped a little. If had been up to him, they would have gone back to the ship then and there, instead of continuing.

However, it was up to Tarn, who didn’t give a slag about creepy mecha.

They got to an open road, and Vos transformed, taking to the sky. No one bothered to stop him. Tarn looked as if he was ready to transform as well, but thought better of it, and strode off. Helex had already disappeared with Tesarus, but you could hear the latter cheering on a brawl four alleys over anyway. Kaon hung back. He was used to having to electrocute idiots anyway, so he figured he’d be useful here.

“So, Rung, what do ya want to do? As long as it doesn’t involve getting drunk, I’m up for it,” Kaon commented, smiling. Rung glanced around, unsure. As if sending his nerves, Kaon grabbed his servo. Patting it, he began to lead Rung down a long street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment for virtual hugs and cookies


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo hoo  
> I may be overtired and hyper  
> Kaon and rung for this chappie

Having a blind mech lead you through a busy street is bad enough. When the street is crawling with angry, drunk, or both Decepticon mechs and femmes? Worse. Worse still when the blind mech snarled at every mech that dared approach him, and let his Tesla coils spark threateningly.

Rung didn’t make a protest. He just held onto Kaon, and occasionally pulled him from the path of a particularly big mech that would step on him and not notice. They ended up at a little stall, set up in front of an alleyway. The seedy looking mech in charge glanced Kaon over, and then set his optics on Rung. Taking in his bright colours, shaky attitude and glasses, he apparently came to a decision.

“Go on through,” He said in a cracked voice. “The show’ll start soon ‘nuff.” Kaon nodded, and slipped by the striped banners. Rung kept ever closer, spooked by the darkness of the alley and looming shadows. They eventually came to a side door, spray painted a burning red. They slipped inside, and snuck to the front of the room.

“What is this place?” Rung whispered, glancing at the mechs all standing around them. He was receiving plenty of glares at his Autobot Badge, but no one came to harass him. Not when a member of the Justice Devision was letting him stand so close.

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Kaon cheerily replied. He twitched his Tesla coils and bounced lightly. “I hope it’s a pit fight. Are we in a ring?”

“No. It’s more like a theatre, to be honest.”

“Oh. Probably music, but could be something burlesque. Been a while,” Kaon commented, turning his sockets to the empty stage. “Describe the stage.”

“Elevated stage, navy carpeting. Could be seen as grey from a distance, but navy’s what I see. Long curtains, red, pooling on the floor, and sewn on sequins. White thread. Elevated seating, um, light set, and I think that there’s a concession stand in that corner... no wait, he’s selling b-body parts,” Rung whimpered, fearful again. He’d come out to have a good time, but was honestly feeling so attacked. A femme leered past, and he recoiled when she traced a digit over his helm.

“Hands off, or I will fight you,” Kaon said in a bored tone, and it was enough to disinterest the femme. She stalked away, and the curtains began to rise. Rung sat down carefully, but Kaon threw himself into the plush seating, and made rude gestures to anyone that grumbled.

As the lights dimmed, and the ones on stage lit, Rung saw a slim mech painted in bright colours on stage. He stood behind a microphone, a collar and leash tying him to the femme beside him. She gently tugged, and smiling, the mech began to sing.

The first note was low and pure, but quiet. The song began to crescendo, rising in pitch and volume. The mech began to recite a song adapted from a poem, one that the physiatrist knew well.

“ _Rarus, Rarus,_  
Oh what a lady!  
She’s the one dressed all fancy  
Glassy rings and smoking shady,

 _Rarus, Rarus,_  
Oh what a fighter!  
She’s the one seducing me  
And stealing my lighter,

 _Rarus, Rarus,_  
What did you do to me?  
You took my love and will and soul,  
And least of all, my money,” he knew the writer, if not that factually accurately, had fallen in love at a tavern, and been robbed by the femme he’d fallen in love with. The guy had come for therapy for two years, before disappearing from the face of Cybertron. He still wrote poetry, however.

As the mech let the last note dwindle, the Decepticons applauded uproariously. Kaon even whistled, which earned him a little bow and a blown kiss. Rung smiled at that.

As they exited the theatre, Kaon suddenly pulled Rung against the wall. Vos flew overhead, clearly looking for them. He couldn’t spot them in their hiding place and quickly swept away. Kaon smirked, grabbed Rung by the hand, and ran.

~~~

Only when they had slipped inside a jewellery store did the two stop. The place was mostly abandoned, save for the newbuild occupying the counter. They barely glanced up from their magazine, and Kaon pulled Rung into a little huddle.

“Whatcha say to a little robbery, before we have to leave Armada for the next like, year and a half?” He asked, mischief rife in his voice. His protocols protested, but a devious smile slid over Rung’s face. He needed to fit in with the Decepticons, after all... when in Praxus, do as the Praxians do!

“What’s your plan?”

After a few moments of whispering, Rung held his glasses in a loose grip, and sashayed over to the counter. He wasn’t sure that he actually had that ‘type’ of appeal, but he supposed it was better than Kaon tap dancing on the counter.

Leaning seductively on the side, he fluttered his optics, and gave a feathery giggle. The new build glanced up, and gaped. Rung licked his lips and flicked his audials, gazing intently into his optics.

“Heya,” he purred, lounging on the counter as if he owned it. “Could you help lil’ ol’ me? I seem to have strayed from the road, into your little shop.”

“I- uh, um, yes?” Tried the new spark, before puffing out his chest. “Did you want something, pretty mech? I mean, s-something pretty, mech?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere, but I can’t find anything... uh, shiny... enough,” tried Rung, and the new build seem to buy it.

“The name’s Curing Iron,” he said suavely, gazing at his servo in faux coolness. “Shiny? It’s what we do best. Now, you looking for an item in particular?” In desperation, Rung took inspiration from the strange package on his desk earlier.

“Collars, the more intricate, the better.”

From the flustered look in Curing Iron’s optics, he’d made the correct choice. The mech stumbled into the back room, and Rung swept several glinting cuffs from a display case. Kaon already had ransacked several, and they should have just left then. But then Curing came out, holding something exceedingly carefully. It caught Rung’s attention.

“Try this one on, it’s one of the finest on Armada,” Curing said elatedly, and it took away the autobot’s breath. Curing darted around him like a humming cyber bird, clipping magnets and positioning chains. He fastened the collar tightly and set the decorative crystals to lie over his chassis.

Stepping back, Curing positively melted. Rung stood in the neon light from the window, haloed with blue and red. The collar was white-gold, with chains draping over his shoulders and down his arms, fastened by magnets. Over his chest was a decorative mesh, with hundreds of multicoloured crystals woven in. He could be mistaken for one of Primus’ angels, if less angelic, and more... sinful.

Kaon snapped out of his daze, and grabbed Rung’s servo. The Decepticon snatched several more adornments, and before Curing Iron could shout at them to stop, they’d run out the door.

Whooping and hollering, the two mechs wove through the crowds, subspaces heavy with stolen goods. Rung ducked betweeen an enormous pair of legs, and tossed down a large crate of energon. The cubes shattered and splashed energon everywhere, sending any pursuers slipping around behind him.

The two slid to a stop inside the ship, and Rung collapsed on the floor. He’d put his glasses on during the chase, and he stared up at a very confused Tarn. Pointing to Kaon, he closed his optics and let out a breezy chuckle.

He was gonna get himself killed one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does the film Leo the Lion exist? It’s so awful

**Author's Note:**

> 'Ooh love, no one's ever gonna  
> Hurt you, love,  
> I'm gonna give you all of  
> My Love,  
> Nobody matters like  
> You,'
> 
> \- Clean Bandit, Sean Paul & Anne Marie, Rockabye Baby.


End file.
